XIII

Inseparable

Rebecca had never been privy to one of Robin Hood's famous escapades. For the most part she had considered herself lucky enough to avoid watching his misadventures. As much as she had often tried to deny it, she had a certain fondness for the young man. It had been hard to not develop some amount of feeling for the poor orphaned boy she had helped raise along with the other servants, but she kept her distance from the young lord of Locksley.

She stood in the back with the other servants, watching from the shadows as an arrow swooped by over the heads of the nobles and Prince John to land quivering on the wooden throne, which moments before the Prince had been sitting in. If nothing else Isabella was a marvelous actress. The other nobles scattered about in panic, as if expecting hundreds of ruffians to descend from all corners of the great hall and hold them all at sword point.

It was only the servants who remained calm, some even exchanged mischievous glances at one another with smiles on their lips. Robin Hood was their hero, that had no one else to look up to. Rebecca had to commend Robin on that, what he gave to the people of Nottingham was more than just the odd package of coins and supplies; it was hope. It was a hope that did not belong to her. Robin was never her lord or her master, and she suspected that he had known this since he had been a child. He knew she would never wish him ill will, nor would she ever wish to see him fall or be placed in danger, but that was all she could allow herself to feel and for this coldness of affection she was forever at odds with the people of Locksley.

Rebecca stayed close beside Isabella throughout the feast, serving her and waiting upon her. Isabella would often pass her a secret glance or a smile as if to say 'Do you realize what I have done? Are you not pleased with me?' It was the same look she would get on her face when she was a child and had thought she had done something particularly clever. Time was when Rebecca used to find such expressions amusing. Now it brought a chill down her spine. She wasn't sure if such a feeling was misplaced. Isabella had done nothing to hurt her. She had been equally as alone as Guy had been and now that she was back she was merely trying to make sense of the life she had left behind. Isabella had even tried to warn her of Guy's betrayal towards her, and she had done this with the greatest reluctance, knowing that this would harm her. No, Rebecca thought, Isabella had done nothing wrong, but try to look after herself.

Rebecca could not help, but notice that Guy had been missing for most of the evening's events and even know a single chair stood empty at the head table next to the Prince. Rebecca was beginning to feel nervous at the prolonged absence of her master, but before her worry could escalate she saw him appear from around one of the stone columns. His expression was blank, but with a pain-worn triumph, that Rebecca could not understand the source of. He took his seat beside the Prince. Rebecca could see that Isabella was watching with hawk-like fascination, as if she was hovering over her prey just waiting to strike and come away with a prize in her claws.

Rebecca could feel Isabella's gaze drift lazily over to her, it was as if she was wondering what she was thinking. Rebecca found she did not like her own thoughts being scrutinized so she turned her gaze away from them both and skittered away to where the other servants lingered.

After the feasting had concluded and the Prince had announced that he would retire for the rest of the evening, Rebecca was once again beckoned over to Isabella's side. She walked over with a trudging step, almost like a dog with its head bowed and tail between its legs. "Come, Becca," She said, "after you have helped me ready for bed you will be dismissed for the rest of the night."

Rebecca was about to nod in acquiescence to her mistress when Guy spoke out. "I'm afraid, sister, you will have to help yourself tonight. I require Becca's assistance." His voice was tight and controlled, Rebecca looked over at him, recognizing the tone as one he usually used when he was masking pain.

Isabella was put out by this, not expecting any interference, "But Guy, you placed her in my keeping now. She's no longer your servant you practically said so yourself." She flashed a hidden look back at Rebecca, wanting her to recall their afternoon's conversation. The allusion sent a stab of pain through the serving woman.

"She's still my servant." Guy said gruffly, "And she'll do as I command yet. Besides, Becca will not know where the servants' chambers are in the castle. She'll have to be shown." Now he was looking at her with a hidden expression. This was too much deception for Rebecca to handle. She felt that she should scream, and if it was within her place she would shouted that she wanted nothing more to do with either of them for the rest of the night and that whatever feud they were fighting they should handle it alone, for she wanted no part in any of it. As it was, she merely nodded her head in silence and went at her master's bidding.

Isabella looked scarlet from frustration, and her eyes darted about as if she was worried for something. Rebecca left her in this fashion and walked out of the great hall, following Guy into the torch lit corridors. She kept her distance, her head bowed low as she followed her own footsteps with her eyes.

"Walk with me, Becca." Guy insisted.

Curious, Rebecca made her way beside him, "Master?" She dared not look at him. She feared that now that they were alone he would tell her she was no longer required at Locksley, that after tonight she would belong to Isabella. She had been dreading such a conversation all afternoon. She would be sick.

Guy looked over at her, taking in the exhausted look in her eyes and the haggard features of her pale face. Her dark hair was tied back with a single ribbon, but small stray locks framed her face with wild frizzled strands. Was she even now wondering what he would tell her, and what, if any, of this conversation she could take to Robin Hood in the morning? Such a thought was too horrible to even think of, and yet, he had been trying all afternoon to dispel all thoughts of the possibility of Rebecca being a spy for Robin, but all he had succeeding in doing was cultivating the seed of doubt.

Her eyes use to be bright with laughter. The memory caught him completely by surprise. Guy looked away, but the thoughts remained. Her dark eyes always held smiles, and she used to have the most wonderful smile. He couldn't remember the last time he had seen it. He didn't know why he cared so suddenly. Perhaps it was because she may no longer be his loyal servant. All this time Rebecca had been with him and he had sent her away. Would it be any great surprise if she had turned spy?

"We're not going t' the servant's quarters are we, master?" Rebecca said softly.

"No."

"Then where are we going?"

Now was the time to confront her about the accusations against her. Let her say her secrets, if any, and have done with it. If there was validity in them he would let her go. It would be punishment enough to banish her from Locksley. He need not have to do anything else. "Becca," He stopped and turned to face her. This should have been easy enough, but somehow the words lodged in his throat and he found it impossible to voice his questions, "I...there have been..."

"You're bleeding!" Rebecca suddenly shrieked pointing down at his boots where a small puddle of blood was beginning to form. Her eyes travelled upwards and she noticed for the first time a dark handkerchief tied about his thigh like a tourniquet. "Master, you're hurt!" Any hidden anger or sickness she had been feeling towards him vanished in an instant.

Guy looked down cursing as he stepped back away from the pool of his own blood. At once, Rebecca placed an arm about him as if to support him. "Where are your chambers?" She asked him quickly.

"Becca, I can walk." He was taken aback at her sudden concern. "I don't need your help."

"Master, you're bleeding. When did this happen? Were ya like this all through the feast?"

"Yes." He said grudgingly, this was not what he had had in mind.

"Master!" Rebecca looked as if she would hit him for his stupidity. "Lord knows how much blood you've lost! Where are your chambers? We are going there, now!"

Now that she mentioned it he had been feeling rather light headed for the past few minutes or so. He had just attributed it to his exhaustion though. The wound itself was almost numb, in fact, his entire leg almost felt numb. "Down the hallway." he found himself saying, "It's the third room."

Away they went. Guy looked beside him to see the determined servant half dragging him to his room as if he couldn't walk there himself. He began to laugh. It started as a small snickering, then a low chuckle, until he found himself unable to contain it. How could he have thought Rebecca was a spy for Robin Hood?

"Feverish." Rebecca scoffed, "What have ya gotten yerself into, master?" She chided, but Guy could not stop laughing, he could not even catch enough of a breath to tell her he was still in his right mind, if not increasingly light headed and numb. Thinking back on his doubts now only brought on more hilarity. He was actually considering confronting her over this, she would have lost her faith in him for good if he had. This sobered him up, and he suddenly went very quiet as Rebecca shoved open the door into his room.

None of the candles had been lit yet, so the room was a musty dark grey, shadows of light were cast about in the darkened room, but there was enough light that Rebecca was able to find the bed and set Guy down. Leaving his side for a moment she set herself the task of lighting the candles. She left the chamber doors open until there was enough light for her to see. She returned to his side, propping pillows up behind him so that he would sit upright.

Guy watched her as she examined the makeshift tourniquet he had tied about his leg to slow the flow of blood from the wound on his thigh. Rebecca did not dare touch the handkerchief just yet. "What happened, master?" She asked him.

"I can not tell you."

"Can't or won't?" She eyed him suspiciously.

"Can't, Becca." There was something in his voice which made her believe him. She was away again, roaming out in the hallway, calling for one of the guards. A young man answered her frantic shouts. She told him to fetch her water, bandages, and needle and thread. Guy smirked as he listened to her. It was amusing to see the woman who usually followed orders deliver demands as if she had been commanding others all her life.

She went back to him, taking a chair and dragging it to his bedside. She placed a hand upon his head, checking for fever. Relief washed over her face as she realized he had no signs of fever. "Are ya in pain, master?" She asked worriedly.

He shook his head. Now that his weight was fully off of his leg it was beginning to throb, but he wasn't going to say so. Was she usually this concerned for him? Wouldn't he have seen it, she made no effort to hide her emotions?

A knock at the door signalled the return of the guard. Rebecca went to the door and let the man in. She thanked him as he placed the supplies upon the table and she wasted no time in preparing them. Pouring the water into a bowl, then unwinding the bandages. She ran the needle over the flame two times to rid it of any infection it could bring to the wound. Threading the needle took most of her efforts. Candle light was not the best light to thread a thin piece of string into a needle's eye.

Any other servant would have panicked and sent for a physician, Guy wagered, but Rebecca had stitched him up before and none of his wounds had ever become infected. He trusted her to take care of him now. He trusted her, he realized with an almost prideful swell. He had been a fool to doubt her when her attentions and loyalties were so clearly with him and his family. Thank God he had never had to tell her of his false suspicions.

Rebecca tore at the gash on his trousers, opening the rip as wide as she possibly could. She dabbed at the nasty wound on his leg, wiping the blood away so that she could see the wound properly. It was ripped and it looked as if whatever knife had been stabbed into him had been twisted and pulled many times. This would not take a few stitches to close. "This is going to hurt, master." She warned him.

He merely shrugged, "Do it."

Positioning the needle against one end of the gash she began to stitch the wound close. She had only punctured his torn flesh once before she heard him swear and give a start at the shock of the needle entering already sore and bleeding skin. "I warned ya." Rebecca said, keeping her focus on his wound.

Once the shock of the stitches wore off, Guy relaxed some. He watched Rebecca work in relative silence. Her steady hands pulled the needle through the skin. He could see some of the thread in the candle glow. She looked as if she was sewing two pieces of cloth together, it felt like that too from the constant tugging on either side of his leg. She had lost all look of concern, her face had gone back to the same tired and emotionless slate.

"We used to be inseparable." Guy said, finding himself voicing his thoughts without check.

Rebecca looked up at that. Guy had never really spoken of their childhood before, the outburst now was most unexpected and slightly painful given what Isabella had told her he had said about her. "Yes we did." She answered with cool indifference.

"What happened?" He whispered to her.

"We were separated." Rebecca answered with chilling bluntness. She would not go down this road with him. He had raised her hopes before only to dash them to bits when he came back to his senses. She couldn't allow herself to discuss her past with him. She wouldn't hurt like that again.

"Do you wish that we hadn't been?" He questioned her slyly. Isabella had said she had gone to Locksley willingly, perhaps she would let slip what had actually happened.

"Oh," She sighed with such longing in her breath it caused her to shudder. She stilled herself before she brought the needle back down to his skin again, "every day, master."

"Even now?"

"Now it is not my place t' think o' the past." Rebecca said as she cut the thread. She began to bandage his leg with a gentleness which contradicted her cold tone. "Ya had best stay off o' that leg for a time, master." Rebecca said, changing the subject, "I wager it'll hurt like the devil in the morning."

"Then stay with me until the morning." He said.

"What?" Rebecca swore she had misunderstood him. "But I've already stitched ya up. Ya don't need me anymore."

"But I want you to stay." He truly did. Somehow nearly loosing her had caused him to find her again.

Rebecca blinked at him. First he tried to engage her in a conversation about the past and now he wanted her to stay with him through the night. Maybe he was feverish after all. She tried to contain the butterflies which went zooming through her heart at the idea of staying with him through the night. She tried to ignore the feeling of restrained giddiness at the thought that maybe he had taken heed of her words. Maybe he was trying to learn how to view her as less of a servant and more as a friend.

"All right, master." She said at last, "all right, I'll stay."

He smirked at her, trying to mask the last of his suspicions of her. She smiled at him, hiding all the doubt she felt in her heart.

Late Spring, 1173

Guy had been wandering through the forest for nearly an hour. He was about ready to give up his search. It was obvious that Rebecca did not want to be found, not even by him. She had run out of the manor so fast no one could have stopped her. Gemma hadn't even tried, not that she was capable of doing anything at the moment. It hadn't been anyone's fault. Life had a way of turning upside down on a whim. That's what Guy was starting to understand.

He should go back to the manor. Rebecca would come back when she had calmed down, but Guy was feeling selfish tonight and he had all the reason in the world to be. "Becca!" He called out for her again. He did not receive an answer. Then an idea struck him. The river! He made his way towards the thicket which had served as his and Rebecca's hideaway. Pushing aside a few low hanging branches, he made his way into the dense and leaf filled fortress. It was the perfect place for one to run to when one did not wish to be found.

Guy could hear the trickling sound of the water flowing in the river which ran along beside him. He hid behind the trunk of the tree at the sound of crying which cut through the night's stillness. He cautiously leaned over to see Rebecca huddled up against the trunk of the tree. Her knees had been brought to her chest, and she had her head buried in her arms. She was sobbing quietly. Wary of disturbing her, Guy backed up a pace.

"Go away." Rebecca said quietly, having heard someone sneaking up on her.

"I just wanted to see if you were all right." Guy replied, no point in denying his presence any longer.

"I'm fine. Now go away." Rebecca snapped, her voice hitching with every breath she took.

Guy walked around to the front of the tree. Rebecca had her face purposefully turned away. "No." He said, and sat down beside her.

Rebecca glared up at him, her eyes red and puffy from crying. She gave a thin sniff and turned her face towards the river, staring out at it as she watched the water roll by. "It's not fair." She whispered. "My father shouldn't have--it's not..." she looked over at Guy. "It's not fair..."

Guy placed his arms about Rebecca, giving her a comforting hug. He felt her shudder agaisnt him and she wrapped her arms about him tightly, squeezing her eyes shut as she held him. "An' I thought I was gonna loose ya too! If your father hadn't...if--oh, God, Guy! They could have hanged ya!"

"They wanted to..." Guy said, trying not to remember what it was like standing up on that scaffold, or how the coarse hood rubbed against his face and neck as it had been shoved on him.

"Ya didn't fire that arrow did ya?" Rebecca asked, tears still falling down her face.

"No!"

"Didn't believe ya did for a second." Rebecca hushed, seeing that she had appalled him by asking.

"What's gonna happen now?" Rebecca whispered.

"I don't know." Guy said, his own voice feeling shaky in his throat.

Rebecca leaned against him. Her cries had left her sapped of energy and she felt about as withered as a leaf in winter. She felt herself curling up; as if hoping to just disappear entirely. She should be back with her mother. She should be with her attempting to comfort her, but she couldn't bear to hear her mother crying. Her mother never cried and it had frightened her to hear the rough and ragged sound of her grief. So she had run as far away from it as she could.

"I'm sorry, Becca." Guy said, his hands rubbing comfortingly up and down her back.

She flinched at his apologies. It wasn't his fault that her father was dead, but she couldn't help but feel a stark sense of injustice. "It's not your fault." She said, raising her tear-stained face to his.

The kiss happened suddenly. Neither knew who had thought to instigate it first, perhaps it had been instinctive. They had been so close to one another that blame could hardly be assigned. Anger and grief were knocked from Rebecca's mind as forcefully as if a mace had struck her full on the head. She clutched at him, holding him to her as tight as she could.

Guy shifted her in his arms, placing a hand upon her cheek, tilting Rebecca's head lightly upwards. She fit perfectly against him. Guy had often wondered what it would be like to kiss those smiling and laughing lips, now he knew. He held his friend to him as close as he could; wanting to forget the confusion and horror that the night's events had brought. Now he knew what it meant to be hated, so much so that his own people had been willing to see him die and do nothing. He wanted to forget. He wanted so much to remain ignorant of the villagers' prejudices. Now that his father was back, what would happen to them all? He had been gone for so long, Guy had almost accepted the fact that he would never return. Was he relieved, or was he scared?

But he didn't want to think. He wanted to hold onto the one person in the whole of Gisborne, outside of his family, who cared for him--possibly in the whole of Nottingham. She was so soft against him, and warm. The kiss grew in ferocity as hesitant confusion turned into a need for comfort from the other. Guy's fingers tangled into Rebecca's long, dark hair, pulling her closer still to him as he felt her open underneath him.

Such a sudden awakening of passion startled Rebecca. She pulled away from Guy, panting. She struggled to force air back into her lungs for a second. She could hear Guy gasping for air as well. They looked at one another, eyes wide, mirroring the other's expression. The spell of brief serenity broken; Rebecca slowly pulled herself out of Guy's grasp, who, at first, seemed unwilling to let her go. She rose to her feet on shaking legs. She pressed a hand to her red and swollen lips. "We should go back t' the manor..." she breathed, "we should be with our families."

"Yes..." Guy exhaled, his chest still heaving with the effort. "Yes...you're right..."

They walked back in silence, neither wishing to speak to the other, especially after what they had just done. Rebecca was not so much of a fool that she did not know that a master could do whatever he wished with his servants. What she did know was that she would not be one of those servants. She also knew that Guy was not likely to ever put her in a position where her reputation would be called into question. They had shared a moment of weakness. They had desired comfort from one another, of course they should have wanted to fall into each other's arms. It would not happen again.

A/N: Rebecca's father is mentioned quite a few times in the story, but is never seen. This might cause confusion over certain events, hopefully not so much. If there seems to be too many misunderstandings I will, of course, do my best to go back and fix them. :)